


Fight Me

by MartiniMayhem



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Happy Ending, Language Barrier, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Shot, Post-Canon, non-serious threat of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 15:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartiniMayhem/pseuds/MartiniMayhem
Summary: "I could beat the shit out of you," Yuuri sighs sweetly.Those few words turn Victor's world view on its head as he tries to figure them out.





	Fight Me

**Author's Note:**

> This all started with a Tumblr post about a girl being tipsy, cuddling with her boyfriend, kissing his neck, and whispering that line while the boyfriend only replied, "I know." The situation as applied to Yuuri and Victor was amusing, and the rest of the fic came from trying to figure out why Yuuri would say such a line.
> 
> For the few lines in Russian or Japanese, hover for transliteration. Translations in end notes.

“Phichit, _stop._ I'm going to _die_ , dammit _.”_

Yuuri’s giggling fills the entire apartment. Victor laughs too, even if he isn't a part of the conversation. He can see Yuuri trying to cover his face with his hand and stop Phichit by waving at the screen of his laptop at the same time. Both motions come out a bit exaggerated and Victor is laughing again, this time alongside Phichit’s tinny voice over Skype.

“Yuuri, I wish you could have been there. It was _crazy_. He _knew_ what could happen if he left his shoes on. Not my fault!”

“Oh my god, Phichit, you are _such_ a little shit-”

Victor bursts out with a laugh, startling not only himself, but especially Yuuri, who is now glaring at him over the top of the beer he almost spilled. He takes another drink then sets it down next to the two empty cans by his laptop.

Victor presses his knuckles to his mouth to stifle his giggles. “I'm sorry, it's just so cute when you swear in English, _ звезда моя_!” He has to hold his next chuckle in when Yuuri only points to the bedroom for Victor to leave, not even a word of Japanese to counter his Russian.

Victor knows better. Yuuri may be a rowdy drunk, but he's only a few beers in and still values his privacy, especially when catching up with Phichit. Something about all the embarrassing slang they use. Apparently it gets worse when Yuuri is tipsy, or so Phichit once let slip.

After Victor finishes cleaning up the remnants of dinner, he loiters around to hear Yuuri’s laughter. He drags his feet a little, wandering closer to Yuuri as he passes towards their bedroom. Maybe he can steal an apology kiss?

Phichit is talking on screen again. “Oh, Yuuri! My new free skate arrangement for the Final, can you look at this for me? Something feels off but I want the points it can get me.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows flatten as he stares Victor down and Victor _knows_ he’s two seconds away from being in real trouble, so he scampers by, socks threatening to slide on the hardwood floor, and hopes Yuuri doesn’t hear him choking down another laugh.

 

—

 

_Mn. Why am I awake... Makka? When did- No, don’t move the sheets, that’s cold... Oh, Yuuri._

Victor feels Yuuri snuggle up against his side and his arm curl around his waist. He turns into it and grunts as the book he had been reading falls off his chest and onto the ground. _So much for staying up for Yuuri._ “Was your call good? You’re warm.” And he really is. Victor is playing with Yuuri’s hair and brushing fingers over his warm cheeks. How much did he end up drinking?

Yuuri snuggles closer, lips resting on Victor’s collar bone in a lazy kiss. “Mnn. Good. Miss talking to-” he interrupts himself with a yawn and Victor is pulled even closer, “to Phichit. Miss him. He’s working hard.”

Victor is tired, but he smiles into Yuuri’s hair and kisses his forehead. His fiancé’s English always gets a little simpler when he’s tired, and Victor’s heart squeezes at how cute it is. His own English gets jumbled when he’s exhausted, but Yuuri’s almost never falters, even now when he’s on the verge of sleep. It’s little details like those that he can notice a hundred times over and feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

Yuuri mumbles something against his neck and Victor sighs with a content smile. “What was that, _ лапушка _?”

Another mumble. “...かすことが出来る。”

Victor’s chuckle makes Yuuri laugh too, but it’s breathless, sounding tired and happy at the same time.

“Try again.” He loves it when Yuuri is too tired to speak even his native tongue coherently. He’s on the edge of sleep again himself, but can’t help teasing his lover.

Yuuri finally raises his head to plop it on the pillow next to Victor, lips brushing the shell of his ear. The words are still mumbled, but at least Victor can understand them around the smile in Yuuri’s voice this time. “Said I could beat the shit out of you.”

“I know, I know.” Victor is the one laughing breathlessly this time.

Yuuri shakes gently with a single laugh and presses his forehead to Victor’s cheek, settling in for sleep.

Victor sighs fondly. What a silly thing to say– of course Yuuri could beat the shit out of—

 

_Wait_.

 

_What?_

 

—

 

Victor eyes Yuuri carefully during breakfast the next morning, teeth clinking against the metal of his spoon as he thinks. Currently, Yuuri is staring at his tea as if it holds the secrets of the universe and rubbing the sleep from one of his eyes. It's the opposite of threatening, but Victor can't be too sure. What the hell had Yuuri meant last night? Sure, he was a little drunk, but a few beers never made him say something like _that_ before. Victor would be lying to himself if he didn't admit Yuuri's words had kept him up for a while. His sweet, loving financé, who panics when his friends get in fights and cried when he told his new rinkmates the story of Hachiko, told him, without a doubt, that he could beat up Victor. Why was that even on his mind?

Really, Victor would find this funny if he weren’t so _concerned._ Yes, he and Yuuri have play fights, god knows he loves it when Yuuri teases him, but this was by far a first.

Even more worrisome, he thinks, Yuuri might very well be _right_.

 

—

 

Phichit picks up on the third round of the Skype call tone. “Yuuri? Something up?” He sounds concerned, at odds with his smiling avatar.

“I'm so sorry for bothering you, Phichit, but I have to ask you something while Yuuri isn't around.” Victor isn't surprised when it takes Phichit a few seconds to answer his rushed explanation. “Please.”

“Wh- Victor? I- um- sure?” Victor is glad he sounds more curious, if still confused.

“Does Yuuri know any martial arts?” Might as well get right to the point.

Victor frowns at the screen when all he hears is laughter.

“Yuuri? Martial arts? You mean the guy I've had to drag to like, every party _ever_ , going out and taking classes in how to punch people?” Victor thinks Phichit may be crying from the gasps that start interrupting the laughter.

Victor already feels his cheeks burning with embarrassment for sneaking onto Yuuri’s laptop to contact Phichit, and this isn't helping. He knows how stupid it sounds. Yuuri? Willingly fighting? Surely someone would have mentioned it if he did know how to fight. He's about to say as much when Phichit suddenly goes silent.

“Actually, I don't know.” There’s another second of silence in which Victor’s heart sinks to his stomach, then quietly, “I didn't know about the pole dancing. And there were dojos not far from campus. Why, did he say something?” Phichit’s voice picks up in volume and speed as the questions start coming. “Did he _do_ something? Are there pictures? Victor, _spill.”_

Victor is choking on air when he hears a key in the front door. “Yuuri’s back don't tell him—I'll tell you later _bye._ ”

Yuuri walks in with Makkachin to see Victor lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Judging by his slight frown, Yuuri isn't impressed. “What happened to starting dinner?”

“Sorry, I got sidetracked!”

 

—

 

“Please pick up… Please pick up… Minako! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Victor says in his accented Japanese before switching back to English. “So, funny story, I was going to call Mari, but I wouldn't know how to explain in Japanese, so I thought I’d call you since you might know…” Victor cringes at himself. He's already sneaking away from joint practice on the rink for this call, and this smooth start isn't about to help his time management.

“Victor.”

Two syllables in and he can hear the storm in her voice. He's in trouble already, and he doesn't even know why.

“ _What_. _Happened_. Is Yuuri okay? Do I need to call him next?”

“N-nothing happened. Why would you think that? I just had a question about Yuuri.” His heart is racing like he's being scolded by an auntie—It's almost enough to make him kick at the ground like Yurio so he doesn’t pout.

He hears her sigh. “Nikiforov, you have a pretty face, and that might get you through a lot in life, but sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

Victor knows he would be incensed if he wasn't melting onto the nearest bench in palatable relief. At least she was using her disappointed teacher voice with him instead of the one that made him feel like he should start digging his own grave. “What makes you say that?”

“Victor, I'm going to give you this advice only once so you better take it to heart: _never start a conversation with ‘funny story, I don't know how to explain this.’_ You sounded like… I don't know, like you had a big fight with Yuuri.”

Victor is about to laugh that notion away when Minako cuts him off.

“And if that were the case, then I’d have to call Yuuri and make sure he’s okay, because if you were that desperate then I'd have to kill you for him. _Bye bye, Olympics_ .” She huffs and continues on cheerily, as if she didn't just hypothetically threaten to put Victor six feet under. “ _So_ , what did you want to ask about Yuuri?”

“Um.” It's all Victor can do to lick his lips, mouth dry and back ramrod straight. “I only wanted to ask if Yuuri had done any martial arts in the past? Or maybe kickboxing?” _Or maybe you taught him something between ballet lessons?_ That unasked question might be the most terrifying possibility so far.

“Hmm… I do recall Toshio-san enrolling Yuuri in classes when he first started with me, but that didn't last long. Yuuri already loved ballet more than judo.” Minako’s voice takes on a rosy tone Victor is familiar with from their previous discussions about Yuuri. “He's lucky his parents let him do what he liked instead of forcing him to stick with other sports. It helps that he's good at whatever he puts his mind to. He's a special kid.”

She comes out of whatever memory she had been pulling from and snaps into the teasing tone Victor had initially expected from her. “What made you ask about Yuuri doing something like that? Was he too embarrassed to explain? I do remember him wanting to quit when the teacher tried to make him spar. He cried until the teacher said he didn't have to.”

Victor clutches his chest to stay the flurry of innocent adoration that welled up. It wasn’t information he was looking for, but he can’t let the opportunity slip by. “Oh no, that's too cute. How old was he? Seven? Eight?” It seems his Yuuri has always been a sensitive soul.

“Fifteen.”

Victor slaps his hand down on the bench with an audible, incredulous gasp, and it echoes in the hall. “ _No.”_

He gets a howling cackle in return. “You are _too easy_ sometimes. He was eight.”

“You are so mean.” He pouts when she only laughs more.

“But really, why are you asking?”

There's not much of a way to avoid the question. He already started the conversation on rocky ground. “Yuuri may have been a little tipsy the other night and told me he could ‘beat the shit’ out of me?”

Silence makes heat rise to his cheeks.

“...Yuuri said that? Our Yuuri. The one we were just talking about.” He would be as disbelieving as Minako if the words hasn’t been whispered in his own ear. “Are you sure you didn't piss him off?”

“No! He was laughing when he said it right before he fell asleep. I wouldn't be asking if he didn't sound so sure of himself when he said it.” Victor fidgets with his engagement band through his glove. “What do you think he meant? He had just been skyping with Phichit before that. Is it some new young American slang I haven't heard?”

“You're asking the wrong person about kids in America, and I have no idea what Yuuri could have meant, but I know I'd put my money on Yuuri before you. I mean, you're tall, but have you _seen_ Yuuri? He's always had pretty dense muscles. I'd watch your back if I were you.”

Victor _has_ seen Yuuri's muscles. That's exactly why he’s worried.

 

—

 

Attempt number one goes completely unnoticed. Same for attempts two and three, though that's probably for the better. They ended with cereal and flour everywhere, and a bruised shin for Victor, respectively.

That is how he finds himself in the midst of attempt number four. Victor tells himself it’s the most direct approach possible.

He gently karate chops Yuuri’s arm while whispering ‘hi-yah.’

Yuuri scrunches up his shoulder in confused defense and looks away from the stew he's stirring. “What are you doing?”

“I'm a ninja.” Victor goes for a slow side chop to the low back with a ‘wa-cha.’ “I'm going to get you.” 

He smirks and Yuuri smirks in return.

He watches Yuuri abandon the stove and mimic his slight crouch, hands extended for chopping like his own. 

He almost can't believe his ears when Yuuri says, tone mock-serious, “Not if I get you first.”

Victor takes a step back and gets a stool between them. He's not sure if this is a good idea anymore. “Oh? So you think you can beat me?”

A bit of color blooms over Yuuri’s face but doesn't move his grin. Instead, he inches forward, wiggling his toes on the hardwood.

Victor glides back, silent as a whisper in his socks, and realizes his mistake instantly. He can see it in the stretching of Yuuri’s grin, the crinkle of his eyes, the coiling of his posture—

This is a game of chicken and Victor gave ground first.

He feels his pulse kick up a notch and starts planning escape routes without looking away. There’s another chair to hide behind to his right. To the left is entryway no-man’s land. Backwards over the couch is always an option. Slowly - slowly now, so Yuuri doesn’t get the upper hand. There’s already prickles going up his sides. A tingle in his scalp. His jaw hurts from smiling too much. The thrill of Yuuri’s laser-focus on his every movement, it screams at him to move. _Now._ He sucks in a breath but it’s too sharp. Wrong again because that’s too much movement and—

They’re both moving. Yuuri is suddenly too close. Victor is scrambling back. Over the couch is his only option. He dives, expecting to have the couch back supporting his weight. His worry is on not hitting the coffee table as he keeps out of Yuuri’s reach. Instead, there’s a confusing moment of weightlessness. The couch isn’t under him. He sees the top of it disappear from view as he’s greeted by the polished floor, socked feet high in the air that his lungs wish they still had. He’s only barely recognized what happened when something solid hits his side and then is all over him, heavy, smothering him as it also traps him in place.

A groan. “Are you okay? Viten’ka?” Yuuri picks himself off Victor from where he tripped in a domino effect. “Viten’ka, speak to me.”

Victor laughs, wheezing. “I meant to do that.” He turns over and doesn’t regret any of his plan if it meant Yuuri grinning down at him like he is now.

“You aren’t hurt?” Yuuri brushes Victor’s hair from his face and feels his scalp for bruises. He’s still grinning.

A mental check of his body takes less than two seconds. Victor is pretty sure nothing will ache in the morning. “I’m fine.” He’s not sure why Yuuri hasn’t stopped grinning.

“Good, so I can still do this.”

And then Victor is laughing as Yuuri’s fingers mercilessly dance over his ribs, prodding his armpits and dashing across his stomach and leaving Victor curled in a ball as he cries out, “No fair, no fair!”

Yuuri kisses Victor’s cheek, still moving his fingers in slow, tortuous patterns as Victor twitches to hide each new spot that tickles. “All's fair in love and war.”

“Yuu- _ri_.” His words come out in huffs. His fiancé is maddening in all the best ways. He twitches at another tickle on his ribs. “Tell me that later.”

Woefully distracted by his temporary victory, Yuuri didn’t react in time to Victor clamping down on his hands with his own arms and using his superior reach to poke Yuuri’s ribs.

They were both yelling and laughing in a tangled mess on the floor when Makkachin joined the wrestle pile, defeating them both with enthusiastic kisses all over their faces.

Dinner was only a little burnt by the time they finally ate.

 

—

 

“Victor, you’re an idiot.”

“Mm, probably.” Somehow it is easier to admit in Russian than in English. He’s still not looking at Yuri, instead watching his fiancé on the ice.

“No, seriously. Did you not learn anything after…” Yuri makes a small, resigned noise before spitting out, “After that stupid banquet?” It sounds like the memories are still painful with the force of their embarrassment.

Victor sighs. He almost regrets mentioning Yuuri’s whisper now, even as a joke. “I doubt he remembers saying it. No reason to bring it back up and concern him.”

“Except it’s weird as hell!” Yuri gestures out towards Yuuri, who is mid step sequence, focused on refining his routine to perfection. They’re all a bit tightly wound, with the GPF only a few weeks away.

Finally, Victor looks away from the ice and directly into Yuri’s almost perpetual scowl. “Drop it, Yura. It’s fine.” He narrows his eyes when Yuri’s scowl deepens. “ _Yura._ ”

Yuri is about to open his mouth with a retort when they hear the all-too-recognizable sound of a body hitting ice with force. They both whip around to see Yuuri smacking the ice with his gloved hand and getting up in his next motion. Frustration rolls off of him in waves as he approaches the boards.

Victor is glad they were speaking in Russian; Yuuri may have been learning the language, but he wouldn’t have been able to pick up on their conversation while concentrating on his skating. Victor has a gentle smile in place and Yuuri’s water bottle ready by the time he arrives. It doesn’t stop Yuuri from sighing.

“I know, I was too eager for the jump.” Yuuri pushes his hair back and sweat makes some of it stick in place. “But I’m sure I can make that loop a quad. It’s the beginning of the combination so it should feel the same as doing one on its own...”

Victor lets Yuuri have a few seconds after his venting. “Then treat it as if it’s by itself. Maybe if you give yourself a moment before the rest of the combination, you’ll be able to land it.”

“But then the rest of the routine–”

“You’ll be able to tighten the timing once you’re comfortable with landing the loop as a quad. I have faith in your sense of rhythm.” Victor leans his elbow on the barrier again and his chin in his palm. He smiles when he sees that Yuuri has less tension in his shoulders than when he skated over.

It happens after Yuuri’s first gulp of water, and Victor is powerless to stop it.

“So you think you can beat the shit out of Victor here, huh?”

Yuuri sputters and almost chokes. Victor wants to drag Yuri from the rink before he can do more damage, but he’s also concerned for Yuuri’s ability to breathe.

In the moment of silence while Victor can't decide what to do and Yuuri is furiously wiping water from his chin, Yuri crosses his arms and demands, “Well?”

“H-how–” Yuuri flushes red and his eyes dart between Victor and Yuri. “How did you–? Did Phichit tell you to say that?” Then whispered in the next breath, “I’m going to kill him, that traitor.”

Victor doesn’t know if he should reach out to Yuuri or not; his face is so red, Victor thinks he might pass out. “Yuuri?”

“Nothing! It wasn't anything!” Yuuri slides his eyes down to his skates as he rapidly clicks the spout of his water bottle.

Yuri scoffs. “Like hell it isn’t.” He kicks at the barrier with a few irritated taps of his sneaker. “You’re not denying it.” Yuuri’s muttering doesn’t make him less annoyed. He growls the same way that usually means he’s about to throw his phone. “What was that?”

“I mean, well,” Yuuri exhales roughly through his nose and squares his shoulders, drawing on some well of confidence he pretends he doesn’t have most days. “I wouldn’t be trying to upgrade this combo with a quad loop if I didn’t think I had a shot at gold.”

Yuri wrinkles his nose. “Huh?”

Victor simply stands up straight and whispers, with no small amount of wonder, “I really am an idiot.” He ignores Yuri’s questioning of what he just realized.

“I'm… I’m missing something, I think?” Yuuri has stopped clicking his water bottle, shoulders hunching in again as he looks between the two who seem to have had a discussion about him, but without him.

Victor flaps his hand at Yuri without looking, trying to get him to quiet for a moment. To Yuuri he says, “Phichit said you could ‘beat the shit’ out of me?”

Yuuri went scarlet at the curse coming from Victor’s mouth. “In so many words, if I could refine this quad loop for both a single pass and the combination. I thought he was putting too much faith in me…”

The last few days were clicking into place. “He wasn't. I know you can, too. You've been working so hard on it.”

“Yeah…” A small smile graces Yuuri’s lips. “It's been… a bit of a mantra this week. But in Japanese!” Yuuri locks up again in slight panic. “I didn't like the way it sounded in English when he made me repeat it.”

“On the Skype call.” Victor nearly laughs.

“Yes…?” Yuuri looks like he's losing the thread of the thread of the conversation once more.

Victor does laugh this time and leans over the barrier to exchange a quick kiss with his growingly confused Yuuri. “Go prove us right. Start with the single pass then add the rest later like I said.” He nods our towards the middle of the ice to send his student on his way.

“You two are so weird.” Yuri mumbles in Russian once more, leaning against the barrier to settle in and watch the rest of the practice as well. “I'm still going to crush both of you, so don't get your hopes up.”

Victor hums. He's watching Yuuri gather speed and launch himself into the air. Four rotations later he lands with barely a wobble then takes a nice long glide before continuing with his combination. Flawless.

Yuuri is probably out there telling himself he's got the talent to defeat Victor.

Victor thinks Yuuri might very well be right.

 

**Author's Note:**

> звезда моя | zvezda moya | my star  
> лапушка | lapochka | honey/sweetie/dear  
> ...かすことが出来る。| ...kasu koto ga dekiru. | Able to ___. (The verb 'to defeat' is unintelligible, even if Victor could understand the rest.)


End file.
